


Retire for Rest

by Ladiladida



Category: Emma (2020)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, George - Freeform, Marriage, Mr Woodhouses delicate sensibilities, Playful sparring, Sickness, Smut, good news
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:41:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23270395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladiladida/pseuds/Ladiladida
Summary: Emma is sent to bed to rest by Doctor Perry. As Mr Knightley returns from London, he immediately seeks out his wife.
Relationships: George Knightley/Emma Woodhouse
Comments: 6
Kudos: 310





	Retire for Rest

It had never been an intention of Emma’s to grow faint or sick in front of her father. His delicate sensibilities generally required careful management and she had always taken great care. On occasion this had meant suppressing experiencing of a headache or a sniffle. Yet on the morning of her husband’s return from London, Emma could not control the turn. Having already been sick that morning, she felt drawn and washed out. This feeling increased until, rising to fetch a book for her father, she found herself wavering on the spot, the world fading out and echoing. Before long, she felt herself placed upon the sofa and before she realised much else beyond the need for sleep, Doctor Perry had arrived. Emma had seen him four days earlier, but now coupled with the agitated concern of her father, she was obliged to retire to bed before lunch. There she remained, allowing Doctor Perry the task of calming and explaining to her father that Mrs Knightley was not about to expire that day or any day in the near future. Too in need of rest, she had ascended the stairs accompanied by her made, brought a sweet tea, then left to sleep. And sleep she did, deeply indeed. 

It was only some hours later that she heard the sound of a horse ride up to Hartfield, though she was only half awake. Emma wasn’t sure if she drifted off again or not but it seemed almost immediately, steps could be heard quickly on the stairs. However on approaching her door, the person took more care and quietly, they entered the room.  
“Are you awake, Emma?” Mr Knightley asked, slightly breathless for he had rushed straight from conversing with her father.

Without turning, Emma heard him approach their marital bed, seating himself on the edge of it behind her quietly. As her eyes remained closed, she heard the drop of his footwear hit the floor lightly and the light rustle of what she imagine to be his waistcoat likewise. His impression on the mattress increased and she soon felt him lie stretched alongside her, his chest melding against her back. Mr Knightley’s proximity warmed her further as she lay atop of the bedclothes. It was a familiar comfort, feeling the warmth of his person, even through his clothes. 

His face rested close to her hair which was not pinned up and she felt his breath on the back of her neck. In an instant an arm stretched over her and he sought her hand, lacing their fingers. Emma now opened her eyes, as she heard him sigh contentedly. Pressing herself back against him slightly so he knew she was awake.  
“Have you been informed?” She asked without turning her head and she heard the whisper of a yes in return. “I am ashamed, I should have liked to have told you myself face to face... but it seems my body has rather betrayed me first.”  
“And how do you feel now, Emma?” His voice asked with concern, his thumb stroking the back of her own hand.  
“I shall be down for dinner, I must be well so as not to concern my father further. I do not know much of these matters, but I know that being with child is no disease. I shall rally and with luck, my stomach will steel for this evening.”  
“Have you eaten since this morning?”  
“Not really, I come over rather sickly of a morning at the moment. Doctor Perry assures me it is normal.”

Mr Knightley propped himself up on an elbow, his wife still not turning to face him. In truth, she was so comfortable lying thus with him, it seemed she did not wish to break its spell. Looking down at her, he saw she was a little pale but nothing to alarm him. Doctor Perry had cared for the Woodhouse family for years, Emma was well. The relief was keenly felt and now the true joyous realisation that she was carrying his child washed over him. Leaning down he kissed her temple and whispered close to her ear.  
“Thank you my dearest, darling.”  
Emma turned her head and he pressed his lips to hers for a long moment. She welcomed this happily, for this fortnight had been an eternity, especially with such news to share.  
“I rather think this is somewhat an affair of your making, Mr Knightley.” She said, her now less sleepy eyes twinkling at him. Manoeuvring herself, she turned on her other side to fully face him and she found herself once more enveloped in his embrace. 

Here she felt safe and loved, these arms had been keenly missed. Though they had only been married three months, his presence was imprinted so much over Hartfield, and most recently in their shared bed that he was bound to be missed. Mr Knightley kissed her intermittently between conversation as they spoke of the Knightley’s in London and of her father’s delicate tempers. It was then that they returned to the new life that their life together had created.  
“I did so wish to write to you of it, but it is important that you have society with your brother. In truth, I felt... that I could not... your being back has made me quite rush with feeling on the matter.”  
“Were you not pleased before?”  
“Indeed I was, but the sickness and you being away coupled with my father’s anxieties for my health, I confess...”  
“Your energies have been rather occupied.” Mr Knightley replied.  
“I do not suffer dreadfully, but on the morrow you will see... but still, it is a blessing. Mrs Weston may advise me on remedies to reduce the ill mornings.”  
“I used to think when I saw you holding little Emma that it suited you well. The time we met after quarrelling over Robert Martin, I watched you thus for a good while.”  
“Did you think then that this would become our odyssey?”  
“Do you mean did I imagine I would have the privilege of quarrelling with you as man and wife? A man so in denial as I was... perhaps I hoped, more than once...”  
“You are a sentimentalist, George Knightley.” Emma kissed him deeply once more, pressing her body more keenly against his. “Now, I should dearly like to be loved by my husband.”

For a moment, Mr Knightley considered protesting, but seeing a flush of colour in Emma’s cheeks and her lips ever tempting, he acquiesced. Taking a moment to undress himself and her into a state less restrictive, he embraced her once more. 

Emma had enjoyed every moment of intimacy with her husband and learning to understand her own body and his. With further familiarity had allowed Emma to follow her feelings towards her husband with intensity she was unashamed of as a secret between them both. At times, their need for one another led to playful, passionate couplings that caused such near loud cries from her that she would have to drag his lips to hers to smother the sound. Yet in this moment, he sensed her want for a more leisurely though by no means less passionate intimacy and he moved at a steady pace to make her body sing. In truth, she had missed him more than she could ever verbalise and she wanted the moment of closeness to last as long as possible. 

As the pleasure moved towards that peak he so often brought her to, she began to murmur the best encouraging response she possessed, the use of his Christian name. Most days her playful sparring with him continued to refer to him as Mr Knightley both at Hartfield and in company. But now, in the midst of being loved, she would call him home to her as George. In a crescendo of muffled cries and kisses, they tumbled into euphoria together. After which, they rested languidly together as their hearts slow and composure regained, both aglow with satisfaction. His arms went about her again, her head resting against his chest as she listened to the rhythm steady in his chest, her own matching.  
“You have been very much missed Mr Knightley.” She said, that familiar playful tone returning. This was an Emma that was very pleased with herself at this moment, though not vainly.  
“I do not think I can be tempted to venture elsewhere for a good while again, Mrs Knightley.” He replied, idly circling the expanse of her back with his fingers.  
“I am very glad to hear it.”


End file.
